


You Should've Asked Me, I'm Really Good at Naming Bands (November 2019 Unfinished WIPs)

by citrusella



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: (note that virtually all topics tagged for are short-lived because of the nature of these entries), (though some changes in formatting to add headers/notes/etc.), Angst, Coma, Cracked Gems, Depression, Episode: s05e23-24 Reunited, Gen, Grief Concerning the Loss of Ability, Major Character Injury, No proofreading, Steven Universe: The Movie, Therapy, Unfinished Drafts, classic psychic ghost type situation, discussion of gem cracking and shattering, relevant tags will be added as i add each chapter, things go differently near the end of the last act
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:07:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22150771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/citrusella/pseuds/citrusella
Summary: (title subject to change)I dida challengethat I had to write my WIPs in November (revised to November and December) or be forced to post them unfinished. I got some updates done, but several not done. These are those stories.Dun-dun.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20
Collections: "Finish Your WIPs or Be Forced to Post Them Unfinished" Month: A NaNoWriMo Alternative





	1. Waiting is Worse

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Waiting is Worse](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20543447) by [citrusella](https://archiveofourown.org/users/citrusella/pseuds/citrusella). 
  * Inspired by [We Can Think About Hope](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15214874) by [citrusella](https://archiveofourown.org/users/citrusella/pseuds/citrusella). 



> For the most part, this story/collection only encompasses the works I actually intended to work on/post during the length of my little challenge. There are a few fics that had very little planned (like, just a premise, or one paragraph) that fell below the threshold of considering a WIP... and a few that have been on hiatus so long they've been soft-canceled. (And one I was writing for fun that I wasn't sure about posting.) Those weren't included in the challenge and so aren't subject to the "punishment"... but if I'm so inclined, I might post unfinished content from those fics as well, just as a sort of "here's an idea" or closure sort of thing for them. (I might also do this for possibly-will-never-use things for a fic or two I DID update during the challenge, depending on how I feel...)
> 
> "Fics" in this collection story are minimally edited, mostly only to standardize headers or add notes.
> 
> If I ever post finished versions of anything for these WIPs, the update will have a note that links to the corresponding chapter of this fic.
> 
> With all that said, let's get on with the show!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The entire WIP document I had for [Waiting is Worse](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20543447).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This contains the snippet I had gotten done of chapter 2, ideas, notes, disconnected snippets of writing, and a completed but trashed/postponed chapter idea. Formatting has been applied to separate the "sections" and add a couple explanatory notes.
> 
> I did not work on this at all during the challenge; this is all stuff I had done before.

#### Most recent chapter 2 draft:

Four days, the better of which being "observation", was apparently as much as Dr. Maheswaran needed to be certain there were no internal injuries.

The number of times he'd woken up hysterical from dreams and nightmares both didn't exactly leave the doctor convinced there weren't "internal injuries" of another kind, but if she had to be fair, psychology wasn't her specialty.

Neither, really, was pediatric emergency medicine, _technically_ , but the Universes didn't trust anyone else with Steven, given his physiology.

When she had arrived for her shift that morning, she had been surprised to find a note on his chart from Dr. Brooks

[so the new note from Dr. Brooks she found at the beginning of her shift, stating everything was "normal, given the circumstances" and simply recommending a follow-up was surprising but ultimately cemented his release, with an admonishment to go easy on… well, everything]  
( **Note upon posting** : I tend to put things I'm unsure of in square brackets like this as a shorthand for "this is rough, examine or rewrite it later"... I don't remember if this is a rough rewrite of the end of the last sentence in the prior paragraph or if that last sentence was a rewrite of this part...)

  
  


#### Ideas:

Steven wants to help on the rebuild when he's been told to take it easy. ...It doesn't go well.

#### Saving for later use:

"You said you wished it'd been you that cracked. Just so we're clear: is cracking like death?"

"No? It's… it's like [how Steven would describe cracking]. She probably wouldn't have even been bubbled if it hadn't been so close to her being shattered."

"...And is being shattered like—"

"Sort of, I guess? Well, except you can reform but it's just part of you…" White, two years ago, pulling out his gem, "and… and all you can feel or think or want is to find your other pieces even when you try to focus on anything else. You could be ground up into sand or paint or something and you'd still want to be whole again. It's… awful."

Dr. Brooks is rendered speechless and just blinks a couple times.

  
  
  


They'd opted to use it on Dad's arm, thinking the necrosis issue more urgent considering the risk for systemic infection, but it hadn't healed him nearly enough--at best it was a debriding agent, prolonging the inevitable. There was just too much dead tissue, and as it was, the fountain had never been designed to bring a human (or, as it stood, their cells) back to life.

Dad hadn't been able to keep it secret--they were already talking him potentially losing it.

So, fruitlessly, Steven kissed his dad's hand every time the man entered the room. Dad seemed to have made his peace with whatever was going to happen, but he knew Steven hadn't, so he let him keep trying.

He just hoped all the kissing wasn't taking even more out of his son's gem. Steven needed to focus on healing himself, not on his old man.

Each time Dad would come into the room, something about the boy seemed more tired or weak or just… muted.

Part of him _was_ muted.

#### Ideas for what he's missing:

Not taking on everything himself

Feeling free to be less mature sometimes

Empathy, maybe

#### Deleted scenes:

( **Note upon posting** : This is essentially a completely done chapter, I just decided it was more angsty than I wanted to charge headlong into at the point in time/plot that I wrote it. Might have been willing to use it or its sentiments later though, which was why I hadn't completely deleted it.)

Enter. Visit. Kiss. Goodbye.

Enter. Visit. Kiss. Goodbye.

It's only been a few days,

but the routine already rubs Greg the wrong way.

Steven could have died,

yet all he seems focused on

is kissing his father's arm

as many times as he can muster,

as many times as it takes to _work_.

Greg couldn't keep it a secret—

they've already been talking contingency for if he…

...loses it.

...Which only makes his son that much more frantic.

The kisses come constant now.

Greg wants to come to terms with it,

but he's not sure how easy that is when Steven cannot.

Or, rather, won't.

He's not even sure he wants to be healed.

The gems brought some water from Rose's fountain,

but all it served to do was bring back feeling.

Painful feeling.

What if Steven's healing,

even at its best,

only takes it that far?

What if Steven's trying,

while he's like this,

only takes more out of

his gem,

his body,

_himself?_

How is _he_ supposed to heal when he's focusing on healing his old man?

Greg doesn't want to be harsh,

but the alternative seems worse.

"Schtu-ball. Stop."

His words are a frown.

His face is a sigh.

"But—Dad!"

His voice sounds lost, afraid,

guilty.

Greg grimaces

but continues.

"This is probably hurting you more than it's helping me."

"I—"

Greg tries not to break down

at the look on Steven's face,

deciding to call forth an old piece of Dad advice.

"...Sometimes you just gotta know when to bail."

That does it.

Steven only tries to hold back for a few brief moments

before the tears take over

and he falls apart.

Greg moves closer and falls apart with him.

\---

Steven doesn't stop focusing on healing Dad's arm.

He just stops trying to do it.

\----------


	2. We Can Think About Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few snippets from my "bits and pieces" doc for [We Can Think About Hope](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15214874/), which is on perma-hiatus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I didn't really intend to write any more for We Can Think About Hope but I strongly thought about doing it during November. I didn't, and the fic is on perma-hiatus, so I figured I'd share a few snippets that never made it into the fic.
> 
> These would have been set in future chapters and not what would have immediately come next. The Amethyst passage contains changes from suggestions by [realfakedoors](https://archiveofourown.org/users/realfakedoors).

( **Note upon** **posting** : Regarding placement, Greg is in the room, YD is sitting outside the window and leaning against the building as if it's a chair.)

"Well, you _did_ kind of stomp him into the beach." His voice lacked any hint of humor. He was dead serious.

She was silent for a long spell. "I wouldn't have done it had I known she was Pink." She sounded remorseful.

"But you would have still done it if you'd known he wasn't."

"What else was I supposed to do? What would you do to someone who hurt the one _you_ cared for?"

"…I don't think I'm going to stick around long enough to find out."

Greg stood and left the room.

* * *

Amethyst had only just shown up, but he practically  _ ran _ \--floated? eh--to reach her. She'd been the first person he'd seen since [figure out what happens before this in the story for sure before you commit to writing the one idea you have here]. When he landed next to her, he grabbed her hand. Her eyes widened.

"Steven?"  _ Connie and Greg were right about you still doing the psychic ghost routine. Huh. _

"Um, hi."

"Hi? I haven't seen you for [determine short but long amount of time] and all you can say is 'hi'?

"Hi… how are you?

Amethyst chuckled quietly. "...Hi, Steven. And, I mean, aside from my favorite worst gem being stuck in some weird B movie plot and two people who probably hate everyone except you hanging around, I guess I can't complain."

( **Note upon posting** : These are part of the same passage but the gap between them is because they never got to the point of flowing into one another. I wrote the latter part first.)  
  
  
  


"It's kinda weird not having to eat. Is this what Pearl feels like  _ all _ the time? …Wait, are they feeding me out there?" He raised an eyebrow. Not that she could see it.

"No! They're just letting you starve!" Amethyst roared. She let out a laugh that sounded decidedly bittersweet but, within the span of a second, turned fully bitter. Amethyst stopped when she realized Steven had let go of her hand. "Of course they're feeding you, dude." She still didn't feel his presence. "Steven."

He leaned against—well, partially through—her, and she sighed in relief. "…Sorry."

"It's okay. You were just trying to  _ lion _ the mood."

"Uh, joke's only funny when Lion's here. Which he's not. Or when a certain someone feels like shapeshifting into him. Which I don't."

"Aw, come on, you wouldn't do it even if your favorite Steven said he was re- _ lion _ on you to cheer him up?"

A chuckle sputtered out of her mouth. "I can't even see you and I can tell you're doing the eyes. But…" she smirked, "I'm not Garnet, so that trick doesn't work."

Steven responded by making the most puppy-dog face he could muster.

Amethyst crossed her arms. "You're doing it even harder, aren't you?"

"Sure am."

"…Alright, then, but you have to back me up when I blame you if someone sees me and thinks I'm a real lion."

"Considering they think I'm completely unconscious, I doubt that'll help, but you got a deal."


End file.
